


My Name Is...

by karasunovolleygays



Series: Valentine's Kisses 2020 [27]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Lovers to enemies to lovers, M/M, Truth or Dare: College Edition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22468351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunovolleygays/pseuds/karasunovolleygays
Summary: A misfortune of chance lands Kuroo and Daishou on the same college volleyball team. A misfortune of tradition lands them in a harrowing round of truth or dare. Some dares ensue, along with a lot of truth — finally.
Relationships: Daishou Suguru/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: Valentine's Kisses 2020 [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589239
Comments: 13
Kudos: 177





	My Name Is...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ramvne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramvne/gifts).



> This was written for my 2020 Valentine's Kisses: 27. Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap.

“I’m not going.” Kuroo crosses his arms and spins around in his desk chair. “I would rather be devoured by cockroaches and have my carcass dragged into hell by a rampaging bull.”

Blinking but not particularly surprised, his teammate on his college volleyball team Ishida says, “Well that’s the most descriptive way of saying ‘no’ I’ve ever heard. And by descriptive, I mean disturbing.”

Kuroo narrows his eyes. “I already have to deal with that evil leprechaun in practice and in games. I’m not subjecting myself to him on my free time.”

Ishida sighs. “Oh come on, man, Daishou isn’t that bad. He’s a little greasy, but not, like, the politician kind.”

“Have you met the guy?” Dragging his eyes back toward his laptop, even though he can’t see a single number on the spreadsheet, Kuroo won’t give Ishida the satisfaction of knowing that. “We’ve known each other since we were ten, and he’s like mold. He gets worse with age.”

Leaning against the wall next to Kuroo’s desk, Ishida rakes his fingers down his face and groans. “I really didn’t want to resort to this, but Takahashi-san said whoever doesn’t come to the party will run laps all through practice for a week.”

Kuroo only pauses for a second at their team captain’s name before he says through gritted teeth, “Fine. I’ll run.”

“Nope.” Ishida bands an arm around Kuroo’s neck and hauls him out of the chair. “You may be a tall fucker, Kuroo, but I’m still stronger than you.”

Limbs flailing in protest, Kuroo cries, “This is illegal, damn it! I know my rights.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you do.” Ishida tightens his grip on Kuroo and drags him out of the dorms and toward the volleyball club room for a mandatory Guys Night In party. 

The whole way through the quad, people point and whistle, but Kuroo doesn’t stop protesting for a second. Every person on campus will know he is going to this thing against his will, so when he inevitably gets arrested for wringing Daishou’s creepy little neck, he might be acquitted for self-defense.

Ishida kicks the door to the club room until someone opens it, and poorly masked titters greet Kuroo as he’s roughly deposited onto a bean bag chair in the corner. 

A shadow looms over him, but with the way Kuroo’s skin crawls, he already knows who it is without looking. “What do you want?”

Daishou chuckles and dangles a bottle of iced coffee in front of him. “Drink up, Kuroo-kun. We have a long night ahead of us.”

“Goody.” Kuroo wrinkles his nose but swipes the coffee from Daishou’s grasp. “Thank you. Now go back to your own side of the River Styx.”

“Oh, don’t be rude, Kuroo-kun.” Daishou’s fingers trace the shell of Kuroo’s ear and drag down the length of his jaw, drawing a shiver out of Kuroo that Daishou is entirely aware of. “Enjoy the party!”

Kuroo shoots a glare at Ishida, who shrugs and plucks a drink of his own out of the cooler in the center of the room. He turns his attention on inspecting his drink, sure Daishou has manipulated it in some fashion. Spiked it with rat poison, dumped salt in it, replaced it with muddy water — the possibilities are endless and frightening.

But a few cursory sips reveal that the contents of the bottle are, indeed, just coffee and a slew of sugary additives. 

Takahashi, a short in stature but large in presence college senior, stands in front of Kuroo with his arms crossed. “You’re not staying over here all night. Mingle, or I’ll turn you into a pretzel.”

For a moment, Kuroo knows true fear. If Takahashi makes such a threat, he can and will carry it out. “Yes, sir,” Kuroo groans, slouched over as he drops onto a bench next to one of the other first years on the team.

It takes everything he has, but Kuroo manages to more or less block out Daishou’s wretched presence. He even comes dangerously close to having fun pulverizing a teammate in a game of Go.

The daylight pouring in through the window fades, and the lot of them crowd around in a circle on the floor. A bad feeling starts brewing in Kuroo’s gut, which flares to a simmer when he finds himself on the opposite side of the circle from Daishou, who wriggles his fingers in greeting.

“Oh, goody,” Kuroo grumbles, dropping a pouting chin on his fist as he tries not to carry out the aforementioned strangulation.

Ishida elbows him. “C’mon, dude, don’t make it worse. Just let it happen and it’ll be over sooner.”

Kuroo doesn’t answer. Instead, he watches Takahashi take the final seat in the circle. Some of the upperclassmen fidget in place, and a knot of anxiety balls up in his gut. They know what’s coming, and they don’t like it.

“Some of you are new, so you might not know what’s coming.” Takahashi shoots Kuroo a glare, and he shrivels under the power of it. “The best way to win is to trust your teammates. The best way to trust your teammates is to know them. The best way to know them is to ask.” 

Takahashi looks around at the team and grins, and his smile makes Kuroo shudder. “So we, gentlemen, are going to play truth or dare.”

Kuroo tries and fails not to gag, and when he catches sight of Daishou smirking at him, his nausea turns to boiling irritation. “Are you friggin serious?” he grumbles under his breath.

Ishida gawks at him and shakes his head for Kuroo to stop, but it’s too late. Takahashi hones in on Kuroo and jabs a finger at him. “Looks like we have a volunteer to go first.”

“Can I just run laps now?” Kuroo crosses his arms and pouts. “Normally I’m all for team bonding and stuff, but isn’t this a little, uh, asking for trouble?”

Takahashi chuckles. “I’m glad you asked. With an exercise like this, you learn give and take, and you definitely get what you give.”

Hirohito, the vice captain, rolls his eyes next to Takahashi. “You’ve just gotta be a petty bitch, but not the pettiest bitch so you don’t get roasted.”

Titters arise amongst the gathering, but Kuroo barely hears them over the noise of his brain screaming. Truth or dare from literally any of these guys is no big deal. Dignity is secondary to fun. But everyone in the room knows his ill feelings about Daishou, and Kuroo has an ugly feeling that whichever option he picks, both the truths and the dares will have something to do with his former nemesis, current frenemy.

Takahashi kicks off the circle, accepting a dare to stand on one of the benches and twerk. Hirohito tells a regrettable truth about being stranded in a public park restroom without toilet paper for an hour before giving up and using a sock. 

All in all, fairly inane fare, and Kuroo almost forgets his hesitation until Daishou’s turn in the circle comes up.

Rubbing his hands together, Hirohito asks Daishou, “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he answers, and almost the entire team leans in to listen.

Kuroo wrinkles his nose. “He wouldn’t know truth if it landed on its head and swirled his stupid hair into a crop circle,” he mutters. Ishida snorts behind a balled up fist, and Kuroo wants to kick himself. He is guaranteed to be a target now.

“So, Daishou-kun,” Hirohito starts, wagging his brows at Kuroo. “Kuroo-kun doesn’t seem to like you very much. Why do you think that is?”

With a dramatic sigh, Daishou paints on a forlorn smile. “Oh, he and I just have some different opinions on what’s fair. We went to the same golden week volleyball camp when we were eleven, and I got picked to be captain over him. He didn’t like it when I talked the coach into making him a libero because his receives were so good.”

Kuroo opens his mouth to deny that someone he had been twenty centimeters taller than at the time decided to strand him in the back row rather than up front with his superior height. However, it’s absolutely what happened. 

“Really?” Ishida flicks Kuroo’s ear. “You’re being a petty little jackass over that?”

“No comment.” 

The circle moves on, and the game falls back into more or less predictable territory. Make a balloon animal out of a condom, did they have the hots for one of their friends’ moms, drink a whole bottle of tea in one chug, worst thing ever found under their bed. Kuroo would take any of these, but he knows when his turn comes around, he won’t be so lucky.

Nailed it.

Daishou is the one who wins the bid to give the options, and ice cold dread roils in Kuroo’s gut. “Truth or dare, Tetsu-chan?”

There is no other option but truth. Kuroo would rather tell an embarrassing anecdote than subject himself to the Daishou’s twisted imaginings. Neither are desirable, but truth is at least tolerable. “Truth.”

A sly grin sneaks its way onto Daishou’s lips, and Kuroo thinks he may have been lured into a trap. “So tell us, Tetsu-chan, other than grannies and aunties, who was your first real kiss?”

The blood drains from Kuroo’s face, and he grinds the heels of his palms into his eyes until he sees spots. “You son of a bitch.” 

“This should be good,” Hirohito mutters to Takahashi, who nods woodenly, his gaze fixed completely on Kuroo.

“You know very well who it was, Suguru. Don’t be an asshole.” Kuroo’s voice is pleading and he doesn’t even care at this point. He knows very well Daishou won’t back down from this question now, not after his reaction to it.

Daishou drums his fingers on his thigh and hums an aimless tune, and every other set of eyes in the room are glued to Kuroo. “Answer the question, Tetsu. No going back now.”

“Fine!” Kuroo ducks his entire head into his t-shirt because he doesn’t want anyone to look at him as he admits, “My first kiss was with Daishou Suguru.”

A pin could drop a few centimeters onto the floor, and everyone would hear it over the complete silence in the room. 

Ishida groans beside him. “Damn, dude, I should’ve just let you take the laps.”

“You think?” Wrapping his arms around his legs, Kuroo buries his still-covered face into his knees. “I don’t suppose anyone cares to throw me onto some train tracks or something.”

The game continues on, but with an entirely different flavor — inane questions and dares not even treading on the border of humiliation. When Kuroo’s turn comes to pose a question, he just hisses, “Pass.”

As everyone disperses for the night, most of them give Kuroo and Daishou a wide berth. Soon, Kuroo is sitting by himself in the middle of the floor, with a worried Ishida finally leaving him alone. 

This is, without a doubt, the worst day of his life.

Daishou had only told part of the story before ripping the punchline right out of Kuroo’s own lips. Yes, Daishou had been the youth camp captain and yes, they had shared a soft and messy kiss in the woods behind the cabin. What got left out was that Kuroo had dropped out of the running for captain because Daishou, the boy he had a crush on, had wanted it so badly. In turn, Daishou had taken that captaincy and used it to punish Kuroo for some heinous sin he has yet to figure out.

The door creaks back open, and Kuroo almost retches when he sees Daishou’s distinct silhouette outlined by the bright lamps lighting the quad. “God, what are you, a vulture?”

“I’m much prettier than a vulture, and you know it.” Daishou sits on a bench near Kuroo’s hunched form and sighs. “I shouldn’t have done that and I’m sorry.”

“Ha!” Kuroo lies down spread-eagle and closes his eyes, channeling every shred of self-control he possesses to keep from wringing Daishou’s neck for real. “If you were sorry, you would’ve said so in front of everyone. Now they’re going to think I’m a petty bitch for turning on you after you got the position. Nevermind that you used me to get it.”

Daishou looms over him, jaw taut with anger. “I did not.”

Kuroo clambers to his feet and stretches out to his full height so he can glare down his nose at Daishou as Daishou seems so fond of doing to him. “You made me think you liked me so you could have what you wanted. You screwed with my feelings for your own ends, and to this day, it still fucks me up.”

“That’s not how it happened!” Daishou jabs his finger into Kuroo’s chest, breathing ragged with rage simmering underneath. “I picked you for libero because you were the best receiver at camp, and I never asked you to drop out of the captain selection. You did that on your own, Tetsu.”

Slamming a foot hard into a nearby bench, the sound of it clattering to the floor is harmonious next to his blood boiling in his veins. “Then why the hell did you start treating me like shit, Suguru?” he shouts, voice cracking on every painful syllable of Daishou’s given name. “Why?”

“Because I wasn’t supposed to like boys!” All pretense of guile long gone, Daishou slumps onto a bench and buries his face in his hands while he quietly shakes.

Kuroo gawks at Daishou’s wilted form before his fists ball up at his sides. “You mean that’s what it was all about? It’s  _ icky _ to like boys, so I guess it’s time to treat the boy who likes me like shit? Since when did you ever care what other people thought unless it suits your needs?”

“Please just let it go.” Daishou’s voice quavers, and when he looks up at Kuroo, his eyes are shining with tears. 

The sight rips the wind right out of Kuroo’s sails, and he drops onto the bench next to Daishou. “Don’t know why you’re so fucked up over it. I’m the one who got screwed.”

“One of the other guys at camp saw us together and told the coach,” Daishou rasps, voice thick as it grinds out the words. “They were going to tell both our parents. I didn’t want you to get in trouble, so I told him I’m the one who kissed you. He already made me captain, so if he took it away right after that conversation with my parents, it would look bad on him. 

“And for what it’s worth, I really did suggest you as a libero because you were the best at it. It just came with the added bonus of making you mad at me so I wouldn’t have to tell you any of this.”

Kuroo’s entire chest aches as Daishou’s confession sinks in. “Suguru, shit, I’m — I don’t even know what to say.”

Daishou shakes his head and leans against Kuroo’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter anymore, does it? My parents made me change what middle school I was going to because you were there. You hated me, so I goaded you right back because it felt less bad than pining after you like a lovestruck moron. Then it just, you know, started being our thing. At least then, you would actually talk to me.”

Resting his cheek against the crown of Daishou’s head, Kuroo wraps an arm around Daishou’s shoulders. “Why did you ask me what you did in front of everyone?”

“Because I missed you.” Burrowing his face even deeper into the slope of Kuroo’s shoulder, Daishou sniffles loudly. “But it was the only way I could make sure you’d finally be willing to talk about it. I didn’t think you would want me back or anything. I just wanted you to stop hating me.”

Kuroo crushes Daishou in an embrace, blinking back tears of his own. “That logic is so fucked up, I actually believe you.” He rocks back and forth and admits, “I don’t think I ever really hated you.”

Muffled by Kuroo’s t-shirt, Daishou says, “Yes you did.”

“Well, maybe a little.” Eyes closed, Kuroo allows this shard of peace to slow and stop the rush of anger he has dragged around with him for years. “So, uh, you wanna start over?”

“What?” Red-faced Daishou stares at him, jaw slack. 

Kuroo nudges Daishou’s mouth shut with his thumb and chuckles. “Start over. To begin anew, to go back to Point A because the last run through to Point B really sucked.” His palm cups Daishou’s damp cheek, and they both lean close together until their lips brush together.

“Hi, my name’s Kuroo Tetsurou, but you can call me Tetsu if you want.” His exact words for almost a decade ago coax a giggle from Daishou. 

He barely has time to yelp before Daishou swings a leg over his thighs and parks himself square in Kuroo’s lap, arms looped around Kuroo’s neck. “Hi, I’m Suguru. You wanna go play with snakes in the woods, Tetsu-chan?”

Their breath mingles between them, and this time when Kuroo’s heart races, it’s fueled by feelings of relief, of joy. “I think we’ll hold off on the snakes until the third date.” 

“Coward.” Daishou snares Kuroo’s lips for a sloppy kiss that is more akin to ambrosia in its sweetness. Not because either of them are particularly good at it, but because it’s the end of a dark chapter and the beginning of another.

Both of them jump when the door to the club room opens, revealing a blushing Ishida. “Ah, crap, sorry. I was just worried about you, but, uh . . .” His elbow smacks into the door frame and he winces. “Looks like you have everything under control. See you at practice tomorrow.” 

Ishida slams the door behind him, and Kuroo can hear him running away from the club room like his shorts are on fire. 

“I wonder how many of the guys already know,” Daishou muses aloud. “Between the ridiculous amount of UST between us and Ishida shouting it out like the village idiot.”

Kuroo nips at Daishou’s cheek. “Hey, be nice to him. He literally dragged me here so your crazy ass plan could actually work.”

“I’ll get him chocolates on Valentine’s Day.” He and Kuroo look at each other and burst into laughter punctuated by a chaste peck on the lips.

“Deal.”


End file.
